


Cold Hands

by PastSelf22



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Undertale Pacifist, undertale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastSelf22/pseuds/PastSelf22
Summary: Sans had developed a bad habit. - Based off of Toby Fox's Countdown Timer Dialogue Stories. No ships, pairing, nada. Just good old fashioned fluff.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Cold Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! It's me, PastSelf22. This is my first fanfiction published on AO3 and I thought this little oneshot would be best for 'testing the waters', if you will. I love intelligent feedback, so let me know what you think in the comments below. I plan to keep this a oneshot, but if I come up with any other ideas I might just add them here. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Sans had picked up a bad habit.

The first Frisk knew of it was an unholy screech coming from the approximate direction of the front doorway. Running down the stairs, skipping every other one, they bolted into the snowy outdoors to see what the matter was. What met their eyes was a strange sight: Toriel – their adopted mother – was doing a strange, eccentric dance of annoyance, hands clapped to the back of her neck, shouting with a fervor usually reserved for Asgore at none other than Sans. The skeleton seemed entirely non-plussed, standing with hands in his pockets and a grin so wide one might have thought he had won the lottery.

Frisk demanded to know what happened, clinging to the doorframe and taking in the strange spectacle.

“yeah, what happened, tori?” drawled Sans, shifting his stance a little wider, the little white pupils in his hollow sockets twinkling with amusement. Toriel fixed him with a dark glare.

“This young skeleton had the audacity to assault me,” she accused, and even though she had told her adopted human child countless times that pointing was considered rude, she waved an angry finger in Sans’s face. “He deliberately stood outside in the snow until his bones were ice-cold, and then told me he had something to tell me. When I leaned over, he put his cold hands on my neck, and he laughed!”

She added this last fact as if he had spat in her eye afterwards. Sans didn’t seem the smallest bit chagrinned by his own actions. He even shrugged. “well… um… you do have fur. that’s gotta count for some protection, right?”

Frisk had never seen their mother look so much like Papyrus as she did right then, shouting and pointing, but trying her best to contain a smile as the funny side suddenly showed. Frisk giggled a tiny bit to themselves, but this attracted the attention of the mischievous skeleton and he turned towards them.

“hey, c’mere, kiddo. i wanna tell you somethin’.”

Frisk held up their hands and retreated into the warm house. They knew what would follow if they stayed.

“oh c’mon, bud. that sounded pretty heated. maybe you should ‘chill out’ a little.” He wiggled his fingers threateningly. Frisk giggled and disappeared, resolving to keep the skeleton within seeing distance whenever they might be together. Whoopie Cushions they could handle, but cold fingers to the neck were a force to be reckoned with.

The threat grew larger as one by one Frisk’s other friends were taken. Sans picked them off methodically like a serial killer and the scourge that had once only been for Toriel grew to include several more victims, the list growing longer each day. Even some befriended humans were subjected to the icy clasp of Sans’s cold hands. Every so often a screech would drift in on the wind and Frisk would know that Sans had claimed another unsuspecting victim.

As the list of casualties grew longer, Frisk’s determination grew. They would not fall into Sans’s trap. No lure or ambush would cause their neck to be pray to the skeleton’s frozen fingers. They began to wear scarves, growing their hair a little longer and bundling up to develop armor against the attack that they were sure would come every day. Frisk even considered straight-out avoiding the skeleton until warmer weather arrived, but avoiding him proved to be impossible. All they could hope for was keeping him within sight-range and trusting in their own dodging abilities.

When forced to be in gatherings with the smiling skeleton, Frisk tried to stay in a huddled group with their other friends in hopes that one of them would be picked instead. This was the case now when – on a bright afternoon with the sun setting the snow sparkling like diamonds – Sans claimed one of his final victims: his own brother, Papyrus.

Papyrus had claimed to be invincible to his brother’s attacks. He alleged that the scarf he always wore protected him, and that staying upright would keep his neck out of his shorter brother’s reach. But then Sans sauntered up to the group, looking as innocent as a newborn baby. Undyne and Alphys – who had already been subjected to his torture once apiece – flinched away, but he appeared not to notice them. He walked past, seemingly on his way to talk to Toriel, and a pen dropped inconspicuously out of his pocket.

“SANS, STOP! YOU DROPPED THIS!!! DON’T YOU DARE LITTER ALL OVER THE PARK!!!” bellowed Papyrus in his typical loud manner, leaning over to pick up his brother’s dropped possession.

Before Undyne could call out anything more than, “Papyrus, wait--!” it was too late. Sans swooped in with more speed than anyone could think possible, burrowing his hands under his brother’s scarf and evoking an incoherent yell as Papyrus yanked upright, nearly taking Sans’s hands with him. Sans stood there, hands back in his pockets, the same Cheshire Cat grin spread across his face as Papyrus railed at him, hands clapped on the back of his own neck and ranting until he was out of breath.

It took quite some time, but finally Papyrus stood there, panting and glaring. Sans shrugged and offered, “sorry, bro.” This sent Papyrus off the rails again and he would have gone on for an even longer time except that Sans walked away again, leaving the taller skeleton shouting threats across the frozen park.

“I tried to warn you, man,” offered Undyne. “That guy’s BRUTAL. I’m pretty sure he camped outside for at least fifteen minutes staring at a single spot to get me to come outside and see what he was looking at.”

“Y- yeah…” added Alphys. She was talking slower in the cold and she kept rubbing her mittened hands together in an attempt to generate heat. “He r-really doesn’t play fair when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“AND I THOUGHT MY HEIGHT WOULD GIVE ME AN ADVANTAGE,” sighed Papyrus. “DARN IT. WELL, AT LEAST I CAN CLAIM TO BE THE LAST ONE GOTTEN! NYEH HEH HEH!!!”

“Um, not exactly,” said Undyne, biting her lip and thinking it through. “He hasn’t gone for Napstablook yet.”

“Technically he can’t touch Napstablook,” pointed out Alphys. “Ghosts can’t feel the cold like we can. Incorporial and all that.”

“AH, TO BE A GHOST,” mused Papyrus, putting on his ‘considering’ face, tapping his chin and staring pointedly at the ground. “AND I SUPPOSE WE AREN’T COUNTING ANYBODY OUTSIDE OF TOWN? SUCH AS THOSE ON TOUR WITH METTATON?”

“Well, if we’re counting those out of town then we might as well count the whole world!” exclaimed Undyne. “And we know that’s pointless. Sans can’t grab EVERYBODY by the neck!”

“SHHHH!!!” Papyrus hissed. “DON’T GIVE HIM ANY IDEAS!!!”

Sans, who was standing at a distance to seem as if he wasn’t listening in (although he was very clearly listening in) smirked slightly. Frisk shifted their feet a little, hearing the snow crunch under their boots.

“SO I AM THE LAST!?!” Papyrus demanded.

“Ummm, I don’t think…” Undyne’s one good eye suddenly alighted on Frisk and they squinted. “Hey! You’ve been awfully quiet, punk! What’s eating you?”

“I d-don’t think Sans has gotten them yet,” Alphys mentioned.

“HE HASN’T???” Papyrus exclaimed at full tilt, his neck snapping as he turned to look at his suddenly shrinking friend. “THAT’S INCREDIBLY UNFAIR!!!”

“Yeah, you’re right, Papyrus.” Frisk could see the glint of sharp, yellow teeth as a smile spread across Undyne’s face. Their heart grew cold. “It is pretty unfair, don’t you think?”

Frisk began to calculate escape routes.

Undyne sighed, rolling her shoulders. “Sorry, bestie. Fair’s fair and you haven’t gotten your dose of the pain yet.”

“YOU COULD ALWAYS GIVE YOURSELF UP NOW,” suggested Papyrus. “NO USE EXTENDING THE TORMENT! WE ALL KNOW IT’S INEVITABLE!!”

“Like Frisk is gonna give themselves up,” snorted Undyne, cracking her knuckles. A smoldering flame was growing in her eye. Frisk recognized it. It was the same fire that burned whenever she got an idea in her head. Ironically, it usually ended up with something being burnt. Like her own house, for example. “C’mon, Frisk, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Walk over to Sans yourself, or…”

Frisk didn’t wait for the other option. Like a cork from a pop-gun they were off as fast as they could, speeding across the snowy field like a rabbit being chased by a fox. They shrieked as they heard Undyne’s shout, “They chose the hard way! Get ‘em!”

Even though Frisk’s legs had grown since that time they had run past Undyne into Hotland, it only took a second for them to be overtaken. Papyrus and Undyne pounced, tackling the small human into the snow and soon all three of them had become a tangled, screaming mass of arms, legs, and snow.

“Grab their arms, Papyrus!” shouted Undyne, trying to pin the flailing human.

“I’M TRYING, UNDYNE!!!”

“Ugh! Why do humans have to be so slippery?!”

“STOP STRUGGLING, HUMAN! JUSTICE MUST BE SERVED! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!!!”

Frisk could feel their scarf being unwrapped and their struggling intensified. They pleaded, shrieking, begging for mercy. Undyne was their best friend! Papyrus, didn’t they have a fun time cooking spaghetti that one time? They had saved everyone from the underground, didn’t that count for something? But no mercy was given.

“Sans! Get your bony butt over here!” they could hear Undyne hollering. “We’ve caught you a sacrifice!”

Sans sauntered over to stand in front of Frisk. They could see his gray slippers dig into the snow as he leaned over them. The end was nigh. Even though it was hard to see with a skeleton and a fish-monster pressing them down into the snow and pinning their arms behind their back, Frisk could see as Sans casually withdrew his hands from his pockets. He dipped his fingers in the powder so they were lightly glazed and wiggled his phalanges in front of their eyes. Frisk whimpered. Even though it was a futile effort by this point, they still attempted to wriggle free. This was going to be COLD.

“Do it, Sans!” ordered Undyne through clenched teeth, holding Frisk a little tighter. “Quick! Do it now!”

Sans lunged.

In an instant, Frisk was free, their two assailants screaming and writhing as the tables were turned on them – their supposed ally dipping his wet, frigid fingers down their own collars instead of their victim’s. Frisk scooted away, pulling their scarf back on and staring with wide eyes at Sans, who was openly laughing.

“SANS, OH MY GOD!!!” Papyrus hollered, burrowing in his own scarf and glaring at his brother with a betrayed countenance.

“I’m gonna KILL you, you TRAITOR!” threatened Undyne, swooping down to pack a snowball and launching it at Sans’s face. Sans dodged, still laughing, and retaliated with his own snowball, smacking Undyne in the shoulder. Even though it couldn’t have hurt, she stiffened. The flame was in her eye again. “Oh, it’s ON.”

Soon they were engaged in a free-for-all. Papyrus began launching snowballs at anything that moved and even Frisk joined in once they realized that the terror of cold hands on their neck had been postponed. Alphys slipped away to a safe distance to watch some anime on her phone, keeping an eye out for any rogue snowballs. Sans was roaring with laughter and Toriel stood by with a smile on her face, not participating.

The end came when Papyrus slid across the ground penguin-style, knocking Sans’s legs out from under him and sending them both sprawling on the ground. He pinned his brothers’ arms to his sides and lifted him above his head. “NO MORE!” he declared, huffing. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, REIGN TRIUMPHANT!!!”

“sounds good, bro,” said Sans, who was panting for breath. He hadn’t gotten hit a single time, but he was tired of dodging. “can you put me down, now?”

“AS LONG AS YOU PROMISE NOT TO PUT YOUR HANDS ON PEOPLE’S NECKS ANYMORE!”

“you know i hate making promises.”

“WELL THEN, CALL A TRUCE AT LEAST FOR TODAY.”

“ok, fine. but today only.”

“GOOD!” Papyrus gently set his brother down in a snow poff and waved a finger at his grinning face. “AND ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT IT WAS YOUR OWN ACTIONS THAT CAUSED YOUR THROUGH WHIPPING. AND IT WAS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WHO ADMINISTERED THAT WHIPPING! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!”

“you’re the coolest, bro.”

“OF COURSE I AM! COME ON, UNDYNE! LET’S GO GET SOME NICE CREAM! IT’S THE PERFECT WEATHER FOR SOMETHING COLD!”

“Sounds good, Papyrus! Race you there! Come on, Alphys!”

Frisk settled themselves next to Sans as their two friends sped off into the distance with Alphys hoisted over Undyne’s shoulder. They were flushed from the exercise and the cold snow felt good on their back. Sans smiled lazily at them, his eyes drifting shut. “fun times, huh, kiddo?”

Frisk thanked him for not putting his cold hands on their neck. Sans shrugged, folding his arms behind his skull like a pillow. “eh, it just didn’t seem fair. ‘sides, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get a two-fer, didn’t it? i made a truce for today, but all bets are off again tomorrow. got it?”

Frisk smiled. Yeah, they got it.

“anyway… grillby’s?”

Frisk looked up at Toriel, who was watching the two of them fondly. She smiled, nodding. “Go right ahead, my child.”

Frisk nodded. Sans extracted himself from the snow poff, shaking off loose powder from his hoodie and sticking his hands back in his pocket. “ok, then. this way. i know a shortcut.”


End file.
